


Convenience

by InterstellarVagabond, mysterem



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 04:54:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11798820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InterstellarVagabond/pseuds/InterstellarVagabond, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysterem/pseuds/mysterem
Summary: Lance, Hunk, and Pidge work with their boss Shiro at the Voltron convenience store and gas station. Besides the usual duties of their job they must also deal with the rival store's boss (the dreaded Mr. Z), his rich kid vaping son (Lotor that jackass), the moody Keith who goes right from his job with Mr. Z to Voltron to buy his cigarettes and argue with Lance, and more.AKA Convenience Store Clerk AU





	1. Chapter 1

Hunk quickly bagged the customer's purchase and wiped the sweat from his brow. He barely had time to breathe before the next customer put their items on the counter.

"Where the heck is Lance?" he asked Pidge in a whisper, trying not to draw the customer's attention. Pidge just shrugged, too preoccupied taking down lottery numbers to give a full answer. Hunk held the scanner like a laser tag rifle and went through the customers as fast as he could, smiling and wishing them all a good day with his best customer service voice. Once the line had thinned and eventually vanished, he took a deep breath and stretched his back.

"What'd I miss?"

Hunk and Pidge turned to glare at Lance, who had just emerged from the back room and was leaning against the chewing tobacco display with a blue slushee in his hand.

"Where the heck were you?" Hunk almost shrieked. "We just had a crazy rush!"

"Oh, so sorry man," Lance apologized. "I was in the back re-teaching myself how to moonwalk."

**Shift One**

"How did you know?" Pidge asked, adjusting her glasses with a frown. Shiro sighed, looking away from the computer and swiveling his chair so he was facing Pidge. They were in the back room, Shiro had the hiring manual out in front of him on the desk, and Pidge was in what she considered her best interview clothes. 

"Katie, I've known you since you were in diapers, I'm gonna recognize you even with your hair cut. Also Pidge Gunderson is the worst fake name ever." Shiro replied.

"Damn, I put a lot of effort into that name," Pidge said.

"But look, I know you need the money, and I'm desperate for another night shift worker so you're hired. Just don't tell anyone you're fifteen and if the cops see you selling cigarettes I don't know you." Shiro said, deadpan. 

"Whoo! Thanks man!" Pidge high fived Shiro.

"To be honest, I'm really proud of you," Shiro said. "I know how hard it's been with your father and brother overseas, just you and your mom. I just hope this helps you get the money you need for those classes."

"Don't worry, I skipped high school how hard could it be to skip college?" Pidge adjusted her glasses again with a smirk. "I won't be paying that much tuition."

"Well, let me introduce you to your coworkers," Shiro stood, pausing a moment to rub at the spot where his prosthetic arm met flesh. It was an experimental prosthetic, and while he appreciated the ability to move it, it did get sore after awhile. 

Shiro led Pidge out of the backroom to the counter, where there was a pair of boys one as lanky as the other was round. The lanky one was texting, his phone place against the bottom of the register with his back to the camera to hide it from view. The bigger one was carefully counting the bills in his drawer.

"This is Hunk and Lance, you'll be working with them on the closing shift," Shiro said. 

"Oh hey fresh blood!" Lance smiled. "Welcome to the team, can't wait to bond with you."

"Hey, everyone calls me Hunk," Hunk smiled and offered Pidge a handshake which she took. "What are your pronouns?"

"I'm Pidge, and they're she/her," Pidge smiled.

"Aw shit I always forget to ask that," Lance said. "Well, anything I forget Hunk usually does which is why we work so well together."

"Yeah, and when you go back in the fridge for five hours, I do all the work," Hunk said.

"The fridge is work!" Lance argued. "It's the hardest work!"

"You realize I can see you jamming out to your music back there right?" Hunk raised an eyebrow. 

"I jam while I stock, it's productive!" Lance struck a pose. "The H in ADHD compels me to groove."

Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose with an exasperated sigh. "Well I haven't slept in two days and this was a fifty hour week for me so do you think you guys could show Pidge the ropes while I go home and try to get some chores done?"

"By chores you mean sleep of course," Lance said, and Hunk nodded enthusiastically.

"We got this, boss, just go home and relax and leave it to us!" Hunk said. 

"Okay, you'll do great here, Pidge," Shiro said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Just...don't listen to Lance too much."

There was an outraged 'hey!' from Lance as Shiro left the store, and then no noise beyond the store music.

"Alright, first thing's first you need a uniform." Hunk said. "We should have some extras in the back somewhere."

"Do I have to wear the hat?" Pidge asked, pointing up at the hat Hunk had on. It was a black baseball cap with an almost comically cheesy picture of a an electric lion running across the front. 

"Yes, hats are mandatory," Hunk said, finger in the air. 

"Mandatory when the DM is around," Lance said, running a hand through his uncovered hair.

Hunk gave Pidge a uniform that was roughly her size, and once she was finished changing she stepped back out into the store. She looked around, trying to get a sense of her new place of employment. It was on the cleaner side for most gas stations, aside from the muddy stains on the floor and the spilled drinks and food on the counters. Hunk appeared to already be cleaning them up though, and something told Pidge that maintaining that cleanliness was a round the clock job. 

The walls were red and white ceramic tiles, and a flat screen was hung up on the wall behind the food counter, displaying an ad with a roaring lion telling customers to buy more coffee.

When Pidge got back to the counter she saw Lance talking to a couple of men. One had the whitest hair she'd ever seen, the other the most orange. The orange haired one seemed to be talking to Lance in an animated voice as Lance printed out his lottery tickets.

"...and I always win with keno! Don't understand it really, must just be born lucky." the man said.

"Excellent timing, Pidge," Lance said, gesturing to the men. "This is Coran, one of our regulars...he practically lives here. And this is Alfor, he's one of the morning shift workers."

"Pleased to meet you," Coran sank into a deep bow. "hmm...you'll be number five."

"Number five?" Pidge asked.

"Yes, I have all the employees ranked by height." Coran twisted his mustache in between two fingers.

"I'm Alfor, we probably won't see much of each other, but I do hope you enjoy working here." Alfor said with a smile.

"Cool accents, not from around here?" Pidge asked.

"Good ear!" Coran straightened his collar. "Yes, Alfor and I are childhood friends from Altea, a small city in New Zealand!"

"Coran, Altea is off the coast of Portugal," Alfor said with a confused face.

"No, no, I'm quite positive it's New Zealand," Coran replied.

"I don't even think it's a real place," Lance whispered to Pidge. "They say it's in a new country everytime."

Suddenly the door swung open with a "ding!" and a group of heavily muscled men in leather jackets entered the store. Pidge just barely caught the words scrawled across the jacket as the biker dudes walked by. "Blades of Marmora".

"Hey."

Pidge almost started, she hadn't seen the skinny teenager come in with the group. It was a boy with dark hair and eyes, wearing a red crop jacket and a grimace.

"Oh no, not you again," Lance groaned. "Why can't you shop at your own store?"

"Who's this?" Pidge asked.

"This is Keith, some loser from the gas station across the street." Lance folded his arms over his chest. "AKA the enemy."

"Look man, your cigarette prices are cheaper okay?" Keith said, rolling his eyes. "Just give me a pack of Camels."

"One lung cancer for the emo kid, coming right up," Lance said, grabbing the cigarettes. "I'll need to see your ID."

"You ID me everytime." Keith growled. "How could you possibly forget my age?"

"Sir, no need to get violent, no ID no sale that's the law of the land," Lance said with a shrug and a smirk.

Keith begrudgingly handed over his license which Lance took two minutes inspecting. 

"It looks fake but I'll give you the cigs anyway," Lance said.

"It's not a fake!" Keith yelled. "Jeez, I sure don't come here for the customer service."

"Ready to go, kid?" one of the biker dudes approached the counter.

"Yeah, I'm ready." Keith said, shoving the cigarettes into his jacket pocket.

"What are the Blades of Marmora? Is that your gang?" Pidge asked. 

"Sort of," the man replied. "We ride hogs together, but the name comes from our roller blading team."

"Sick." Pidge grinned.

"LANCE! THE SODA MACHINE IS ERUPTING AGAIN!" came an urgent call from Hunk.

"Oh boy, better grab a mop, newbie," Lance sighed. "Things are about to get muy messy."


	2. Daibazaal Rewards, Quintessence E-Cigs, and Grassy Asses

"Hello!" Lance greeted over his shoulder as he stocked the cigarettes. "I'll be with you in just a sec." He finished putting the Marlboros in their place and turned back around to face the customer standing at the counter. "Hey man, what can I do for you?"

"Uh yeah, I have a Daibazaal rewards card and it won't let me use it out at the pump."

"Alright, no problem! Which pump are you on?"

"The Dodge Avenger." Lance hoped his slightly more forced than usual customer service smile wasn't obvious.

 _Oh yeah sure,_ he thought, looking out the window at the gas pumps.  _I definitely know what that looks like._

"Is it that one there on the pump closest to us?" He asked. The customer pointed in a slightly aggressive manner at a completely different pump.

"No, it's that one."

"Ah, okay. Pump one." He tapped the pump prepay button on his register screen. "And how much do you wanna put on it?" 

"I don't know, I want to fill it up."  _Stay cool Lancey Lance, this isn't the first stupid rewards card user you've had this very same conversation with. You got this, you beautiful son of a beautiful woman, love you mama._

"So we can do either a specific dollar amount or a specific gallon amount."

"I just want to fill it up." The man on the other side of the counter was clearly annoyed- unjustifiably so, in Lance's opinion.

"If it helps, any money that doesn't get used goes back to you, either on your card or in change."

"How does it work? How does it put it back if I pay with my debit card?"

"I don't know sir, but it will. I promise."

"Just do twenty dollars then." The customer pulled out his wallet and thrust a both a twenty dollar bill and his Daibazaal Grocery gas rewards card towards Lance, who scanned the card and accepted the money.

"Okay so down there it's going to ask if you want to use your rewards, so go ahead and hit yes." The man looked down at the card reader and frowned.

"Rewards unavailable. Huh. My wife must've used them. Okay, just put twenty on it."

"Ok."  _Are you KIDDING ME?! After all that?!_ "Have a good one!" He shouted after the customer who had already started walking out of the door. Hunk, who had been over by the oven making the chicken sandwiches and burgers (that he absolutely despised but didn't trust Lance to make), looked over at his coworker when Lance dramatically collapsed over the counter with a loud groan.

"You okay over there?"

"Hunk I swear on the Sharknado movie franchise that I'm going to quit if there's one more awful rewards card customer."

 

 

The store phone rang and Hunk and Pidge both locked eyes.

"Rock, paper, scissors!" Hunk, who had thrown out paper against Pidge's scissors, accepted his fate and answered the phone with a cheerful "thanks for calling Voltron store 84, how can I help you?"

"Yeah uh, do you guys, uh, sell Quintessence?" 

"Yes we do." Hunk answered. They got this call at least four times a night. The Quintessence vapes were suddenly very popular with the college frat boy population.

"How many starter kits do you have?" 

"One second, please." Hunk crouched down next to the shelf of vapes and counted, growing both relieved and worried when he counted six. They would go fast, and when they ran out they would get the question "when do you get more" and he did  _not_ know the answer to that one. "We have six left."

"Okay thanks." The caller hung up and Hunk put the phone back in it's place. 

"Add a tally to the list. That's another call."

 

 

" _Hola,_ " Lance greeted, making sure to pronounce it more like  _hole-aaah_ than  _hola_. "How can  _yo_ help  _tu_ this  _dia?"_ Keith stared at him, opened his mouth, shut it again, and looked over at Hunk for help.

"What is he-"

"Excuse me,  _sen-ior_ , what can I get you?"

"Camels. Here's my ID." Lance took Keith's license and looked it over, holding it up to the light ("Dude come on that's not going to prove it's fake! It's my real ID.") " _Si,_ I guess this'll do. Which box,  _mi enem-ig-oh?"_ Keith scowled, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets.

"Camel Crush, happy?" Lance smirked and nodded.

" _Mu-ey."_ Hunk gave Lance's shoulder a playful, yet gentle shove. 

"Lance buddy, I love you but I've heard you on the phone with your mom and I know for a fact that you are fluent in Spanish."

"Yes I am, but none of you are so I'm trying to speak it like the rest of you would so I don't intimidate anyone with my superior skills." He gave Hunk a wink and a threw up some finger guns. "Anyway, back to dollar store Billy Ray Cyrus. It's gonna cost a million dollars." 

"Whatever." Keith sighed as he swiped his card. "Also stop making fun of my hair. Your customer service skills get worse every day." He grabbed the pack of smokes off the counter and nodded at Hunk. "Have a good one, big guy." Hunk smiled, returning the sentiment.

" _Grassy-ass_ , come again!"

"Lance, seriously?" Hunk asked. Lance just shrugged at him, tearing Keith's receipt off the printer and crumpling it up.

"It's not my fault that the American public school system doesn't teach Spanish well. Anyway, check this out." He turned and threw the paper ball into the trashcan like it was a basketball. "I'm Shaquille O'Neal."


End file.
